She always looked for a silver lining

But never thought it would be a silver razor

One side dull

The other thin, sharp

Admiring it reflecting the single light in her room

Gripping it in one hand

Exposing her wrist

Placing razor to wrist

She turns her head

Gliding it across her wrist

Watching blood drip

Seeing a demon escape as well


She has many demons in her

Every cut releases one

But there are too many demons to cut out


She puts her razor away

Pulls down her sleeves

Waits her arms to heal

Then she repeats the process

Over and over again


Guide that inspired this poem: 



this is very haunting


Schizophrenia much? haha this was actually really good. i loved the rhythm of your poem!

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